Hogwarts Assignments - Term 9 & 10
by EtherealBunny
Summary: Collection of one-shots featuring different characters.
1. The Cat Lady

Written for **Assignment #1** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry **forum: _Mythology, Task 5 –_ _Write about a maternal woman who isn't actually a mother._ Word count: 556.

 **The Cat Lady**

* * *

Arabella Figg was a curious woman. At the age of sixty she could call herself a mother to twenty-seven adorable cats and, unfortunately, no human children. But it hadn't been meant to be this way.

* * *

Back when she was a young girl, her parents wanted her to lead a happy life, despite her being a squib. They introduced her to a kind and good-natured boy shortly after she had turned sixteen. Two years later Arabella and Cyril got married and moved into a tiny house on the outskirts of London.

She yearned to have a child as soon as possible. Maybe even a _magical_ child? Cyril was as much of a squib as she was, but they both came from strong wizarding families; so it was not impossible. And so they tried, without success, for a little over fourteen moths of their marriage. On the twelfth of September 1940, fifth night of German bombing on London, Cyril's life came to a tragic and early end.

After this dire event Arabella's family took her back in. It was not easy to find a partner for a widowed squib; and they gave up rather soon. Over time she found herself in the role of a nanny (or maybe a governess?) for her little nephews and nieces – all nine of them! She loved them, but always secretly grieved over the child she hadn't been blessed to have. They loved her, too, or so she hoped; but they seemed to forget about her soon after starting Hogwarts. She understood.

The last of the children left for school in September 1961. After twenty long years Arabella needed to find somebody (or something) else to dote on. In the meantime she had taken particular liking to kneazles; eventually she redirected her motherly feelings to these intelligent and affectionate creatures. She had a way with them, even though they were often deemed difficult.

Her first half-kneazle kittens happened to be an accident. But what a lucky accident! They were less independent than purebred kneazles, looked almost like normal cats and, for some reason, people became interested in having them as pets. Within a few years she managed to turn breeding the hybrids into a profitable business. Parting with her kittens was heart-breaking at first. It became easier over time, but she always made sure to put them only in good hands.

At this point of her life Arabella dared to say she was happy, even with the spectre of Wizarding War raising. It was not the first war in her life… And her family's house was safer than her and Cyril's had been. She forgot that wars brought changes.

This time changes came with the end of the war and a visit from Albus Dumbledore. She had met him three, maybe four times before, when she happened to have bits of information potentially useful for the Order of the Phoenix. But now – now it was something more. He wanted her to look after a child, or rather to keep an eye on him. _From distance_.

Could she? She was sixty years old already, not a young girl anymore, and two decades had passed since her youngest nephew had started Hogwarts. But Arabella Figg was not one to get scared easily. And, especially, not one to leave a child in need. She accepted.


	2. Mating Habits

Written for **Assignment #1** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry **forum: _Mythology, Task #9 –_ _Write about someone going through the motions of trying to become pregnant._ Word count: 525.

* * *

 **Mating Habits**

"Two years, Teenie! You've been married for over two years, and people are beginning to talk, you know," Queenie insisted. "And I wouldn't mind becoming an auntie myself…"

"People should mind their own business, Queenie," retorted Tina. She was already tired of people suggesting that they should try for a child, _quickly_. Newt was too occupied with his creatures to even think about children, and she… She had never imagined herself as a mother. They were happy with their life: Newt's research expeditions, her job at the British Ministry of Magic. Why change it? " _Oh, well. Because people are beginning to talk,_ " she thought.

* * *

She spent a lot of time thinking about it and she still didn't feel convinced. But maybe they should talk about it? That couldn't hurt. In the evening, when they cuddled on the sitting room sofa, she decided to touch the uncomfortable topic.

"Do you… Do you think we should try for a child?" she asked, looking at the glass of elven wine in her hand.

"A child?" repeated Newt, his eyebrows furrowed. "Would you like to?"

He sounded surprised. Of course he did; Tina herself was surprised that she had even started this conversation.

"I don't know," she admitted with a complete honesty. "I've never thought about it."

They stayed silent after this, snuggled comfortably. Tina sipped on her wine from time to time, seemingly pensive. _Would she like to?_ Newt stroked her hair gently, focused on his own thought.

"We could, you know," he said finally. "That is, if you want."

"We could," Tina agreed, half-heartedly.

* * *

"Pawooo!"

"Wha – " Tina seemed startled at the sudden noise. She looked up.

Newt stood there, feet a bit more than width apart, knees slightly bend; one arm curved in front of him like an elephant's trunk and the other hooked behind him. "Pawooo!"

"What are you doing?" she asked, half-confused, half-amused with his antics.

"Demiguises' mating habits," he explained quickly. "The males try to –"

Tina's facial expression made him stop mid-sentence. "People don't to this, right?" he realised, blushing. She couldn't keep herself from laughing anymore. For someone who knew an awful lot about magical creatures, Newt could be incredibly unaware of _human_ habits. But she was less and less surprised with it.

The had not been intimate before. They cuddled _a lot_ , caressed each other in a non-erotic way, but neither of them initiated anything more. Tina – because she had had two rather unpleasant _encounters_ in the past. And Newt – well, Newt was just being himself. But she didn't expect he had _never_.

* * *

"Teenie…"

"We are… working on it," Tina said hesitantly. "It's not so easy, Queenie."

* * *

"Shall we, Mr Scamander?"

"Tina, I –"

"Shhh," she silenced him gently. "Just relax, Newt."

She traced his jawline with the tips of her fingers, and then went lower, across his torso, to the edge of his trousers. "Just relax."

* * *

"It was… quite nice," said Newt quietly.

They were peacefully laying in bed, Tina's head on his arm.

"It was," she smiled.

"But… We could wait some more with this baby thing."

"We could. If you want to…"


	3. Together

Written for **Assignment #2** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry** forum: _Ancient Runes, Task #4 – Write about someone finding out they don't have long to live._ Word count: 380.

* * *

 **Together**

The evening of June 14th, 1992, found the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts lit only by a few candles located on the huge desk. The light placed deep shadows on the faces of three people gathered here, two men and one woman. They were quiet. And, what was the most unusual, the numerous portraits stayed silent, too.

 _Not safe. Letting the philosopher's stone exist was not safe._

"I'm sorry, Nicolas."

Having to pass such unfortunate information to his long-time friend and mentor, Albus Dumbledore suddenly felt much older than he was. Gone was the twinkle in his eyes and his smile. The Flamels, however, looked calm. They were an elegant wizarding couple, seemingly a bit younger than Albus. An unaware observer would never suspect any of them to be over six hundred and fifty years old. But they were; and now their journey was coming to an end.

"It was bound to happen, sooner or later," Perenelle said. "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." [1]

* * *

Nicolas and Perenelle sat together in their bedroom. Her grey hair, released from the neat updo, framed her face gently.

"How long do we have?"

"No longer than one and half year," answered Nicolas, making quick calculations in his head. To sustain the effects of the elixir, they would need another dose in fourteen months; but the one they had already taken would keep them alive some more.

"I don't want to be left alone, Nicolas."

It was one thing Perenelle feared. Not death, not even possible suffering after the elixir stopped working. No; she was only scared that her husband could die before she did. And after several centuries of love and friendship, she couldn't imagine being _alone_.

"I know," he confirmed. "But we don't need all this time, darling. We could…" he hesitated for a moment. "We could make sure that we leave together."

Perenelle didn't respond right away. It seemed almost sinful, to plan ending their lives early. But didn't they give the world all they could have given? Didn't they deserve to make this decision?

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "We _should_."

* * *

 _NICOLAS FLAMEL_

 _MAY 12, 1326 – JAN. 17, 1993_

 _PERENELLE FLAMEL_

 _AUG. 29, 1333 – JAN. 17, 1993_

 _DIES DIEM DOCET [2]_

* * *

[1] These are, of course, the words Albus Dumbledore uses in conversation with Harry in _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_. Well, he might have quoted Perenelle.

[2] _Dies diem docet_ – Latin " _the day teaches the day_ ". I believe the Flamels would value the experience gained over time, so it seemed fitting.


	4. Late Bloomer

Written for **Assignment #3** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry **forum: _Gardening, Task #5 –_ _Write a fic featuring a character under 11 years old._ Word count: 380.

* * *

 **Late Bloomer**

Plumpish, dark-haired boy sat in the corner of the living room, still unnaturaly pale and shaken after what had happened just moments ago. He tried to remove mud from his dark blue robe's sleeve, nervously looking at his gran and uncle. They were talking animatedly, but quietly enough to prevent him from hearing actual words.

He straightened his back when they looked at him; gran hated slouching. But she didn't look angry right now. She even smiled a little; and that could surprise anyone who knew Augusta Longbottom.

"I'm so happy, Neville," she said, coming closer. She hugged him shortly, and the boy tensed, not used to such affection from his grandmother. "We will go to the Fortescue's… But you need to change first." _Of course_ she noticed the mud on his robes.

* * *

Sitting in the Fortescue's ice-cream parlour, with a chocolate cone in his hand, Neville was slowly realising that he _did magic_. He did magic, for the very first time in eight years of his life! This, however, did not make what uncle Algie had done any less scary.

* * *

" _You will thank me for this!"_

 _Algernon Longbottom was entirely sure that he did the right thing. A Longbottom could not be a squib, he would not have it! That left the option that the boy was a late bloomer and he just needed a bit help. So a helping hand would Algie give him!_

" _Uncle Algie, please!" begged Neville. "Please, pull me back in!"_

 _Most of wizards would not call hanging kid upside down outside the window "_ help _". Algie did._

" _You can do this yourself, lad" replied the man decidedly._

 _Next thing Neville would recall afterwards was the grip on his ankles loosening, and paralysing fear that this time he was going to die. And then he_ bounced _. Almost like a ball; except a ball would not scream. He did. When he flew almost back to the window, when he started falling again and when he was sure that he would never stop bouncing. He stopped eventually, all the way down the path in the front yard. By this time gran had come outside._

* * *

"Maybe we will make a wizard out of you, Neville," mused Augusta, as he finished his ice cream cone. "Do you want one more?"


	5. Three Birthdays of Ursula Scamander

Written for **Assignment #5** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry **forum: _Charms, Task #5 –_ _Write a kidfic._ Word count: 440.

* * *

 **Three Birthdays of Ursula Scamander**

 _October 24th, 1943_

"Up!" demanded Ursula. She managed to get to him through the length of the living room, even though there wasn't much furniture she could cling to. She had started standing up and trying to walk some time ago, but wasn't entirely proficient yet.

Newt held the girl under her armpits and lifted her vigorously. She laughed… And then pulled his hair with rather surprising strength. "Ursula, don't."

He didn't raise his voice, but the message was clear. She looked at him for a moment, and soon loosened the grip on his hair.

Dealing with children was a lot like dealing with magical creatures, Newt thought. He completely didn't understand why Tina looked so scandalized when he had shared his conclusion with her.

"Who's my birthday girl? Yes, you are," he confirmed, more softly. "We need to get you ready for aunt Queenie's visit."

* * *

 _October 24_ _th_ _, 1948_

"Ursula Scamander, you better come down this instant!" Tina's voice was irritated, but Newt could catch the slight shade of panic in it. Children's broom had safety charms built in and it couldn't fly higher than five feet from the ground. Apparently, this was not enough to make his wife worry less; she didn't think Ursula should learn to fly so soon. He thought she was being too strict and overprotective at times, but she had lectured him on the importance of the _united front_ long ago.

"You want to check on the bowtruckles?" he suggested. A couple of them inhabited a tree just outside their kitchen window and showed up quite regularly. Ursula seemed to love this funny, stick-like creatures and even named a pair of them.

"Jazzy and Pearl?" She thought about it for a moment. "Yes!"

* * *

 _October 24_ _th_ _, 1953_

Eleven. They couldn't quite believe that their daughter was eleven already. Fortunately enough, with her October birthday, they had ten more months before she would go to Hogwarts. But today was _the big day_. As an eleven-year-old, Ursula could get her very own wand; and they both knew perfectly well that she wouldn't forgive them if they tried to postpone the trip to the Ollivanders.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"We are going to apparate to the Diagon Alley, so you need to…"

"…hold your hand and not let go. I know, dad," finished Ursula impatiently.

"Right. One, two… Three."

They landed in the apparition spot closest to the wand shop, so they only had to walk for a few minutes. Newt looked at Tina over their daughter's head. This time it was his wife who smiled encouragingly.

"Welcome to the Ollivanders, sweetie," he announced, stopping just in front of the door.


	6. Ten Galleons

Written for **Assignment #6** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry** forum: _Astronomy, Task #3 – Write a story set on a snowy winter day/night._ Word count: 502.

* * *

 **Ten Galleons**

Weak. Merope felt weak, weaker than ever before in her life. Maybe she was stupid, after all, to think that Tom Riddle would _really_ love him. A month and half of feeding him Amortentia had been enough to make him marry her and for her to fall pregnant. He seemed so genuinely happy when she told him about the child… She decided not to give him another dose of the potion. And as soon as it wore off completely, he left her – not without accusations of having bewitched him. Well… She had done it, hadn't she? That happened in early October.

Now, in mid-December it was much more difficult to scrape by on the streets of London. Today it was freezing, and nice morning snowfall soon turned into full-blown snowstorm. She would gladly hide in one of not very pleasant pubs in Knockturn Alley, but without money to order anything, they would quickly throw her out.

She reached to the locket hanging on her neck, under layers of fabric. Her most precious heirloom, proof that the Gaunts were, indeed, descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin. Could she so easily get rid off it? _Yes_ , she decided. _For the baby._ She didn't really care about herself anymore, but she had to think about her son.

After months spent here she knew Knockturn Alley well enough. She passed this small shop, Borgin and Burkes, more than once. They had a reputation for collecting curious artefacts and would most likely buy the locket from her. She pulled it off her neck, clutching heavy gold chain in her ice-cold hand. Then she entered the shop.

The man behind the counter seemed to be her father's age, or maybe even older. He looked at her without a word – it must have been obvious she was not one of their usual customers. She held the necklace in front of her, not moving around, as she didn't want to make too much mess. She could already feel the snow on her clothes melting in the warm room.

"I want to sell it," she said simply. "It's been in my family forever… I-I believe it belonged to Salazar Slytherin." _I know it belonged to Salazar Slytherin_ , she thought.

Judging by his sceptical looks, he didn't believe her; but he took the necklace from her and proceeded to wave his wand over it.

"It's a fake," he soon decided. "But a pretty good one. I can give you… Seven galleons."

 _Seven galleons! The gold itself was worth much more._ But she was not in a position to make a fuss. She needed the money, desperately.

"Fifteen," she proposed.

"Ten."

Feeling it was his last word, Merope just nodded. The shopkeeper hid the locket and quickly counted ten galleons to give her. She gathered them and put into one of her pockets, not looking at the man.

"And now… Get out."

She obliged and left, back into the snowstorm. Trying not to cry, she thought he _knew_ it was not a fake.


	7. Second-Hand Robes Shop

Written for **Assignment #7** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry** forum: _Geography, Task #1 – Write about a muggleborn getting their first set of robes and hat._ Word count: 493.

 **Second-Hand Robes Shop**

"We need… Three sets of plain work robes," stated Lily, carefully checking her supplies list. "And one pointed hat."

Eileen Snape, who was in charge of this little excursion to Diagon Alley, sighed quietly.

"We were going to visit the second-hand shop," she said reluctantly. "But you'll probably want to buy yours at Madam Malkin's."

"Uhm… Second-hand is okay," she decided quickly. Ollivander's had been the first place they visited and the wand took fair share of her money. And mother always complained that they were still growing and needed new clothes too often! So it was only reasonable to save on them a little.

"Let's go then." Eileen didn't comment Lily's choice any further. Instead, she just led the kids in the right direction. It wasn't a long walk. After five, maybe six minutes they stood in front of a small shop crammed between a sweetshop and, ironically, Twillfitt and Tattings, the upper-class clothing shop.

"In you go."

The interior wasn't very welcoming with its low ceiling and too many racks kept in too small space, and Lily hesitated for a moment; but she let Severus grab her hand and pull her inside.

She wasn't sure where to look for the robes she needed. Her friend's mother soon answered the unvoiced question:

"School robes are not on display."

Then she moved to talk to the clerk. The witch sitting behind the counter was visibly bored and didn't even bother to greet approaching her customers.

"These two are Hogwarts first-years," said Eileen, waving her hand in Severus and Lily's direction.

"Three sets and a hat each?"

Eileen nodded.

"And one winter cloak for the girl."

The witch focused on them for a moment, most likely estimating the sizes needed. Then, without a word, she headed to the back room.

When she came back, she carried several hangers with robes on them. As she passed them to the children, Eileen urged Lily and Severus to try the robes on. There were no changing rooms, so they could only put them on right there, in front of the counter.

Pulling the loose-fitting robe over her head, Lily felt a bit awkward. When they were both dressed in their uniforms, the clerk handed them the hats. Lily quickly placed it on her head, and as Severus did the same, she giggled. "We look funny."

"You'll get used to it," muttered Severus.

Eileen looked at them and ordered Lily to try the other robe. She did as she was told, neatly putting the hat and the first robe on the counter and putting on the second one.

"This one's better. A bit too long, but we can easily fix it. The first one would be too short," she explained. "We'll take them," she informed the clerk.

The witch nodded and collected the clothes to pack them and sum up the prices. While she was busy doing this, Eileen asked the children:

"What else's on your lists?"


	8. Helpless

Written for **Assignment #8** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry** forum: _Ghost Hunting, Task #4 – Write about terminating or losing a pregnancy._ Word count: 555.

 **Warnings:** Miscarriage mentioned, as per the prompt.

* * *

 **Helpless**

 _Helpless._ Rarely did Andromeda feel so helpless as now, when she kneeled in front of the fireplace to floo the obstetrics unit at Saint Mungo's. Being a healer herself she suspected – _knew_ – what was happening, but an independent opinion was needed to make it official. She tried to collect herself enough to say her destination clearly. Still, she sounded slightly shaky as she called "Healer Oaks!" and put her head into the green flames.

"Persephone?" The healer was nowhere to see, so Andromeda raised her voice a bit. Instead of her colleague – friend – this new intern appeared. _Dorothy, was it?_ The girl was barely out of school and reminded Andy of her younger sister. Blond hair, pretty face, clear blue eyes. And yet, she was entirely different to Narcissa.

"Healer Tonks!" exclaimed the girl. They had met before and it was customary to address healers by their title even outside work. "What can I do for you?"

"Is healer Oaks available? I need to talk to her, _urgently_ " she informed.

"She's gone to check up on a patient. I'll go get her if you can wait for a moment," proposed Dorothy.

"Please do so," agreed Andromeda. She hoped it wouldn't take long; her knees started to hurt. The girl left immediately.

She didn't come back. Instead, only Persephone entered the room, giving them some privacy.

"Andy? What happened?" They knew each other long enough to read some information without words; and Andromeda's tense expression was a clear sign that something was wrong.

"The same," answered Andromeda. Tears appeared in her eyes; she was no longer able to control her emotions. "The same." She had been through this three times before, and every time she had been accompanied by Persephone.

"Back off, I'm coming through," decided the older witch. Andromeda obliged, pulling her head out of the fireplace and moving away. She stood up from the floor and sat on the sofa, rubbing her knees. Moments later, healer Oaks arrived.

"When did it start?" She asked, healer mode fully on.

"I started bleeding about an hour ago," answered Andy, trying to be precise. "Called Ted to take Dora out," she added. She didn't want her seven-year-old daughter to be here… And Ted didn't want to leave _her_ alone, so he probably took Dora to his parents and would come back soon.

"Lay down," ordered Persephone. She held out her wand, ready to run necessary diagnostics spells.

She casted them non-verbally, moving her wand in intricate patterns above Andromeda's abdomen.

"You can sit up," she announced several minutes later. "I'm sorry… You were right," she informed, squeezing Andromeda's hand. "The baby's heart is not working. Must have stopped a few days ago."

Andromeda didn't feel like she needed this explanation, but it was a part of being professional. She nodded her head.

"I will give you a potion to speed everything up," said Persephone. "And I want to see you for a check-up in two days."

"Understood, healer Oaks," answered Andy formally.

"Next time…"

"There won't be a next time," she said. They discussed it with Ted after the third loss, agreeing to try one last time. And this last chance was now gone. They had dreamed about having a bigger family in the beginning… But they would not bury another child; _four_ was _four too many_.


	9. Silly Humans

Written for **Assignment #9** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry** forum: _Sex Ed, Task #3 – Write about someone dealing with self-image issues._ Word count: 328.

In addition, the story is submitted in the following forum events:

 **Marauder Map Madness** [prompts: 151. _"I hate the way I look"_ (dialogue) and 152. _Crookshanks (character)_ ]

 **Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them** [prompts: 9. _pretty (word)_ and 5. _no characters over the age of 24 (restriction)_ ].

 **Silly Humans**

Humans were silly. Crookshanks had known that, of course, ever since his stay at the Magical Menagerie. However, soon after coming to live at Hogwarts he had to realise that teenage girls were an entirely different level of silliness than humans in general.

Like now, for example. His owner sat in front of this ridiculous talking mirror (so good it stayed silent now!), without much effect trying to tame her hair and put it in some sort of an up-do. Why she would torture herself with this brush, Crookshanks could not fathom.

"I hate the way I look!" he heard her mutter under her breath. But she did not stop; she kept pulling her hair with the brush, turning decent-looking curls into a nest-like mess.

"Meow!"

He intended it to sound disapprovingly, but the owner ignored him completely. And Crookshanks, like any other self-respecting cat, didn't like to be ignored. He meowed one more time and jumped onto the table, right between the girl and the mirror, causing her to drop the brush.

"Crookshanks! Bad cat!" she scolded, like there was any point scolding a cat. _Silly human_.

"Meow!"

"Shoo, I need to do something with my hair," she announced. Crookshanks, of course, didn't care. He sat on the table, looking at her intently, until she seemed to give up. She didn't reach for the brush, and instead just tied her hair with an elastic. "It's not like it'll make me look pretty," she sighed.

"Meow!"

This last comment sounded dangerously like intro to a longer list of supposed aesthetical flaws. He had heard that already: the hair ( _too bushy_ ), the teeth ( _too big_ ), the hips ( _becoming too wide_ ).

"You know, Crookshanks… Sometimes I think it would be nice to look like Parvati," she said quietly, leaning in his direction and pressing her cheek against his fur. _Silly human_. But at least for now she was focusing her attention on him instead of occupying herself with some nonsense.


	10. A Crisis

Written for **Assignment #1** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry** forum: **Demonology, Task #1** _–_ _Write about someone having a mid-life crisis._ Word count: 630. List of additional prompts below the text.

* * *

 **A Crisis**

"Is there a reason you're staring at me like I'm about to burst into flames?"

"You are drunk," Molly stated the obvious.

"I know," shrugged Arthur. "I know."

"Again."

"I know."

He'd been having a tough time lately. He didn't really understand it, but everything seemed to be so dull and pointless. He was almost forty. He had a steady, but pitifully low-paid job and a family with the woman whom he had once been head over heels in love with. He was not so sure anymore.

The children were sleeping, fortunately. Not that it was surprising at half past four in the morning. It was Molly who was used to getting up at the dawn, and he… He simply hadn't slept all night.

"I'll better go to the shed."

The shed was his little retreat, safe place to hide in and think a little. Or to sleep, when he was in a state nobody should see him in. And lately it had become the place where he could freely trinket with some muggle stuff and experiment with charming some of the things. He found it relaxing. Molly, on the other hand, complained about his new-found "obsession".

"I'm not done with you yet!"

"But I am."

* * *

Not many people stayed at the Ministry this late. Of course, there was always somebody from the Magical Law Enforcement; aurors could be needed at any hour. But in offices like the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts or the Administrative Registration? Most of his colleagues left their desks as soon as the clocks announced five in the afternoon. Which had been… Almost two and half hours ago.

"What are you doing here?"

Edward Prickwillow, from the Improper Use of Magic, peeked into Arthur's office.

"Working," replied Arthur. To show his point, he vigorously signed the report from the last intervention. Somebody jinxed a toilet to spit its contents on anyone who used it. An easy thing to fix, not counting several muggles that needed to be obliviated.

"Working, ha!" Prickwillow commented. "You can't actually be serious about this. Misuse Office doesn't have that much to do" he said. "And that means you have another reason to sit here all alone."

He came in without asking for permission, took a gingerbread from a bowl on Arthur's co-worker and leaned on the unoccupied desk.

"Been there a few years ago, you know. Staying overtime, running away from problems. But aren't you a bit young for a mid-life crisis?"

Arthur tried his best to ignore the man. He turned the page and tried reading, but Edward didn't seem to take the message.

"I don't have a mid-life crisis."

"No?" he asked, biting on the gingerbread. "Then go home, damn you!"

* * *

Painting a fence was a perfectly good way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Painting it the muggle way, of course. Arthur kneeled on the grass, working intently, when he was interrupted by the youngest two of his children.

"Mum says dinner's ready," Ginny informed.

Arthur froze with the brush halfway between the paint bucket and the fence's surface. A bit of the paint dripped from it. A dog barked nearby, probably a stray that sometimes visited them. Arthur hesitated for a moment.

"I'll come when I finish, honey."

"Mum says she wants you to come now," she insisted. She was only six years old, but she already seemed to have inherited her mother's stubbornness.

Arthur turned around to looked at the kids. Ginny's hair looked damp; Molly must have planned to sent her to bed right after the dinner and told her to bathe early.

"I said: I'll come when I finish," he repeated. "Mum will understand, go eat."

That was not exactly true; Molly would not understand. But at the moment, he couldn't force himself to care.

* * *

Writing **Club January – Book Club, Toramaru:** _(animal) dog, (object) fence, (action) (dialogue) "Go home, damn you!"_

 **Writing Club January – Amber's Attic, #12.** Flash: _Write about running away from something._ ( **5 bonus points** )

 **Writing Club January – Angel's Arcade, Characters #4.** _(dialogue) "I'm not done with you yet!"_

 **[January Event] Build a Cheese Board – Meats – Dry Cured Salami:** _The Burrow (setting)_

 **Winter Seasonal Challenges – Days of the Year, January 26th - Spouse's Day:** _Write about a married couple._

 **Winter Seasonal Challenges – Winter Prompts:** _(object) Gingerbread_

 **Winter Seasonal Challenges – Birthstones:** _(dialogue) "Is there a reason you're staring at me like I'm about to burst into flames?"_

 **Winter Seasonal Challenges – Elemental Challenge – Water:** _(word) Damp_

 **Winter Seasonal Challenges – Star Chart Challenge – January 3rd and 4th – Quadrantids Meteor Shower:** _(dialogue) "You can't actually be serious about this."_

 **365 Prompts** – (70) permission

 **The Insane Prompt Challenge** – (895 – family) Weasley


	11. Just Us

Written for **Assignment #2** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry** forum: **Folklore, Task #2** _–_ _Write about someone changing their status (lower class to high society for example)._ Word count: 506. List of additional prompts below the text.

* * *

 **Just Us**

Life could be really unpredictable at times. Eileen had never expected herself to agree for an evening in a non-magical pub with some colleagues, not to mention forming any kind of relationship with a Muggle. But it happened. Tobias was tall, much taller than her, well-built and had a weird sense of humour. And _he_ was the first one to talk to _her_.

In the following months they met regularly, once or twice a week. And now… now was the time to make important decisions. For the Merlin's sake, she was twenty-four, but she kept sneaking out to meet a boy like some teenager!

So she waited in her parents' sitting room, staring thoughtfully through the window. That was not going to be easy.

"Eileen."

"Mother," she responded quickly, getting up to greet the older woman properly. "Father," she added, as he entered the room right after his wife.

Gustav and Miranda Prince were a formidable wizarding couple; both with somewhat attractive, dark looks to them and impeccable manners.

"You wanted to talk to us," Gustav stated, sitting down on a comfortable double seat. Miranda didn't join him; she chose one of the armchairs instead. Nothing unexpected. As far as Eileen could remember, there was little to none affection between her parents and it was a rarity to spot them in a moment of physical contact.

"Yes," she confirmed. "I… met someone."

That seemed to spark their curiosity. Eileen was not the prettiest (they had no idea who she took after, honestly), nor the youngest girl out there. They'd almost given up hopes of finding a suitable husband for her.

"Which family is he from?" questioned Miranda immediately.

"He is a Muggle." Eileen's voice was steady, her face almost expressionless.

"Eileen!" Miranda gasped, visibly indignant. "Don't you dare! Either you forget about any relationship you might have with this boy, or you'll no longer be able to call yourself our daughter."

"I'm not asking you for permission," said the girl with dignity. "I'm merely informing you of my plans. Anyway… cast a diagnostic charm on me," she suggested.

Miranda furrowed her eyebrows, hearing this last sentence, but she pulled out her wand, and performed the spell. Seconds later she let out an unarticulated sound, when it revealed an additional tiny heartbeat within Eileen's body.

"How could you! How could you do something like that to us!" For a moment Miranda looked like she wanted to fire another spell at her daughter, but after a quick glance in Gustav's direction she lowered her wand. "What will people think!"

"I don't care what people think, Mother. All I care about is us," said Eileen, protectively resting one hand on her abdomen.

That was the moment when Gustav decided to join the conversation.

"Get out, Eileen," he said simply. "And don't come back asking for help."

* * *

Later that day, when Eileen left her family's house, the name-tag on her suitcase no longer carried name " _Prince_ ". Now it was just " _Eileen_ ". She wasn't an heiress of a pureblood house anymore.

* * *

 **Prompts:**

Herbology Hangout – (random starter seed) _item: name-tag_

Writing Club – Assorted Appreciation – 20. _dialogue: "I don't care what people think, [NAME]. All I care about is us."_

Writing Club – Film Festival – _28\. item: window_

1000 Prompts – _576\. item: suitcase_

365 Prompts – _126\. mother_


	12. A Forest Morning

Written for **Assignment #3** on **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry** forum: **Photography, Task #5** _–_ _Write about two people getting closer in a situation._ Word count: 632. List of additional prompts below the text.

* * *

 **A Forest Morning**

The Forbidden Forest could be incredibly overwhelming, but Luna didn't feel scared. She knew the way to the thestrals' clearing well enough; and she could _listen_ , both to her surroundings and to the creatures who wanted to advise her. She could distinguish the sound of a nearby waterfall, whispers of hinkypunks and distanced drumming of centaurs' hooves; and some bowtruckles steered her away from where the acromantulas' nest was.

She slowed down a bit when she noticed the first thestral. It would not do if they shied because of her inconsiderate behaviour. She walked carefully, trying not to make too much noise with her sandals, the only shoes she could find in her trunk this moment. Nargles must have taken the more suitable for today's weather ones. It was spring already, but it was still chilly.

"Hello, little one," she said softly. It was just a foal, still uncertain on its legs and charcoal grey in colour rather than completely black. She reached to her bag for a piece of meat; she always got some from the house-elves before coming here. They were fascinating creatures themselves. And such sweet souls, most of them!

Just a moment after the little thestral came closer to grab the meat and reluctantly allowed her to pet its head, Luna heard a noise behind her back. She must have lost her focus, because she hadn't registered the sound of steps before. But the bowtruckles didn't try to warn her, so she didn't worry.

"The forest is forbidden for students," grumbled the man standing a few feet away from her. "I should give ya a detention," he added, trying to sound strict. Being strict was something expected from teachers; and he still _was_ a teacher.

"Good morning, Hagrid," said Luna serenely. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Don't try to be smart." He easily noticed that she tried to distract him. "You shouldn't be here… alone."

The girl didn't respond immediately, lowering her head and playing with a pendant hanging from her neck for a moment. It probably wasn't the prettiest pendant in the world; a simple ring carved from a piece of cherry wood. But she liked it, as the necklace used to belong to her mother.

She smiled, as the foal bumped its head into her hand, clearly unhappy that it didn't have her attention anymore.

"Yah good with 'em," commented Hagrid kindly. He couldn't be angry with someone who had their way with creatures; and Luna undeniably had.

"They are truly unique," she answered. "So friendly… It's a shame people think they bring bad fortune."

"And this one's a real charmer," pointed Hagrid, looking at the small one which still stayed close to Luna. "Weak for women," he joked. "Never let me comma tha' close."

There was a moment of awkward silence, as neither of them knew what to say next. Luna gave one more piece of meat to the foal and moved away. "You're not getting anymore," she warned. "The others deserve to eat something good, too."

Of course thestrals were perfectly capable of catching they own food, and there was plenty of it in the Forbidden Forest. Still, bringing them something was a proof of good intentions, and they readily accepted it. She divided the rest of the meat between two groups of adult thestrals, but kept a small distance.

"They like you, Hagrid," she stated, observing the eating creatures. "And I trust them," she continued, sounding a bit dreamy. "So I guess I like you too."

She wiped her hands with a piece of cloth she also had in her bag and decided it was time to get back to the castle. She turned around, walked to the dumbstruck giant man and quickly hugged him.

"Have a good day," she wished quietly and walked away.

* * *

 **Fight the Supernatural** – 2. _Rubeus Hagrid_ and 7. _fortune_

 **[Writing Club] Book Club** – The Magus: _(dialogue) "Don't try to be smart.", (occupation) teacher, (trait) strict, (word) advise_

 **[Writing Club] Liza's Lodes** – 3. _Write a fic that's set completely outside_

 **[Writing Club] Angel's Arcade** – Firion: _(trait) weak for women, (object) pendant, (color) charcoal grey_

 **[Seasonal] Days of the Year** – March 20th – International Earth Day: _Write about someone who loves nature._

 **[Seasonal] Colour Prompts** – c _harcoal_

 **[Seasonal] Flowers** – Hydrangea – _(object) necklace_

 **[Seasonal] Elemental Challenge** – Water – _(word) waterfall_

 **[Seasonal] Star Chart Challenge –** March 20th – March Equinox: _(season) spring_

 **1000 Prompts** – 68. _(character) Rubeus Hagrid_

 **365 Prompts** – 128. _unique_


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